


The Same Song

by capableofbeingaterror



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Based on Counting Stars by One Republic, Enjolras/Republic, M/M, One-Sided Enjolras/Grantaire, Song Lyrics, comparing characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capableofbeingaterror/pseuds/capableofbeingaterror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire are both having trouble sleeping, but for different reasons. But are their reasons for staying awake really so different?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Same Song

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a fanfiction based on the song "Counting Stars" by One Republic. the song reminds me of both Grantaire and Enjolras in different ways, and I thought it would be interesting to show how it works for both. It sort of explains some things.

Lately I been, I been losing sleep

Dreaming about the things that we could be

Enjolras sat at his desk, a small candle burning beside him. He couldn't rest. There was still so much to do and plan, and Lamarque could die any day now. He looked out his window and watched as the urchins huddled in the shadows to try and stay warm. This was unjust! The people should all have equal opportunity. Even if education was provided for all, it would greatly benefit France. Crime can often be traced to poor education. If one has an education, one is able to begin a career. If one has a career, one is able to make money. If one has money - enough for needs and some desires - there is little point in robbing from others and risk being caught.

Enjolras imagined France as it should be and felt passion rise in him. He would not sleep this night.

Grantaire lay awake on his bed, a bottle dangling from his fingers. Enjolras had yelled at him again, and Grantaire smiled remembering the look on the Greek god's face. Enjolras was always beautiful, but his beauty was at it's best when he was angry. This was why Grantaire tried his best to annoy the man. It wasn't very difficult though since everything about Grantaire angered the blond youth.

Grantaire put the bottle down - Enjolras would be so proud - and lay there quietly. He closed his eyes and imagined Enjolras lay beside him. His imaginings took him far away, to places he had only recently allowed himself to go.

But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard

Said no more counting dollars

We'll be counting stars

Yeah, we'll be counting stars

Enjolras dreamt of the day when the people would not need to worry about money and would be able to focus on other things. He imagined how happy all of France would be; people would be free and equal. Of course there would still be problems, Enjolras was not a fool, he knew there would always be problems. But if you could solve them one at a time, you would get closer and closer to solving them all - better than just sitting there at least.

likewise, Grantaire wished for Enjolras to stop worrying about the people and equality and all this foolishness. France would never be happy, nor free.

I see this life

Like a swinging vine

Swing my heart across the line

Enjolras had left his family and would humiliate them with this insurrection if it did not succeed. It was interesting to look back at life and imagine how it could have gone differently. Enjolras could have been much like his parents: enjoying their lives with little thought to the lower classes. He had, of course, been born with the desire for justice and equality, but it could have been sucked from him if he had allowed it to.

Grantaire thought life was pointless and disgusting. You struggled along for so many years and then one day, you die. There is such little fulfilment. When one is on his deathbed, he thinks not of the great he has done, but rather of his most pressing regrets. That was what life was to Grantaire - nothing to look forward to, but you might as well squeeze every small joy you could from it. Then, he met Enjolras and now his heart was in a different place. His mind and gut told him that they would all die, but his heart wanted them desperately to win. Not because of the people or of France, but because he needed Enjolras to live and to be happy. He couldn't bear to see the passion drained from the angel.

In my face is flashing signs

Seek it out and ye shall find

Enjolras could feel the stir in the air and hear the excited sound of the people as the time for revolution came near. They would rise. He could see it in their faces and hear it in their words. They gave the people hope for a better world, a world that they wished for. The people wanted to be free and be given equal opportunity, and because of this, Enjolras knew they would come.

Grantaire saw different signs. He saw the number of students against the entire army. He watched as the people scattered every time there was some resistance at a rally. The people liked them better than the king, but not as much as their quiet homes - no matter how dismal they may be. People stuck with the evil they knew. They were afraid to change and find a worse one.

Old, but I'm not that old

Young, but I'm not that bold

Enjolras felt older than twenty-three, though he knew that was the age he was. It happens sometimes when one is more mature and focussed than most around them. On the other hand, many older adults would say, "You are so young! How do you expect to overthrow the monarchy?"

Grantaire felt old as well, but not because of the reasons Enjolras did. He felt old because of the alcohol taking its toll on his body. It was tiring to be a drunk with all the hangovers, but a drunk was what he was. Grantaire was actually still in his youth, not much older than Enjolras, but he did not have the boldness and burning passions and great love affairs of the others.

And I don't think the world is sold

I'm just doing what we're told

As much as Enjooras believed the people would rise, he could see that they were not yet convinced. There was more that needed to be done, and he would do what his mind and heart directed.

Grantaire didn't believe this would work at all. This insurrection was a pointless waste of ten lives. However, if Enjolras commanded something, he would try to do it, just like the others. He didn't want to let Enjolras down.

I feel something so right

By doing the wrong thing

And I feel something so wrong

By doing the right thing

Enjolras couldn't do what his parents wanted. He knew he disappointed them, but what he was doing now felt so right, and ignoring the cries of the suffering was a terrible crime to commit. He refused to be like most of the other bourgeois.

Grantaire knew it was wrong to think of Enjolras the way he did, but it felt so right. He loved him and he couldn't help for what he wished. He couldn't help his fingers from wanting to run through those blond curls or to feel Enjolras lying close to him. He liked women, but compared to Enjolras, every creature lessened.

I could lie, could lie, could lie

Everything that kills me makes me feel alive

Enjolras knew their was a good chance he would die in this fight, but the passion that flowed through him was worth it. The passion made him feel so much more alive and that rush, added to his burning desire to help the people, made everything endurable.

Grantaire knew that staying with Enjolras would kill him, but he would because of how Enjolras made him feel. When he was in the presence of the Greek god, he could feel again and the world was more than emptiness.

I feel the love

And I feel it burn

Down this river every turn

Enjolras loved Patria and would serve her until he died. She was his passion and the reason he did everything.

Grantaire loved Enjolras, but the love hurt. He knew Enjolras hated him and the thought made Grantaire want to jump into the Seine, but he wouldn't. He had to stay with Enjolras and die with him if needs be.

Hope is a four letter word

Make that money

Watch it burn

Hope was what kept The People living on from day to day. Likewise, it was what kept Enjolras fighting for Patria. He hoped that one day, France would be the country he knew it should be. He spent all his time and energy for that dream.

Grantaire's hope was for Enjolras. The only hope left in his life was that Enjolras would accept him and that Enjolras would live. These were the only things he cared about anymore. All of Grantaire's money went to drowning his pains and thoughts in alcohol because Enjolras couldn't give him anything.

I could lie, could lie, could lie

Everything that downs me makes me wanna fly

Whenever Enjolras saw the urchins in the streets, or the young mothers huddled against a wall, he wanted to save them. Everytime the cynical Grantaure told him it wouldn't work, he wanted nothing more than to prove him wrong.

Everyime Enjolras snapped at Grantaire, Grantaire felt like his heart was dying, but Enjolras - along with alcohol and opium - was the only thing that Grantaire could feel anymore. Emptiness was always around Grantaire, but the passion emulating from the revolutionary pierced through the shadows that seemed to cover Grantaire's mind.

Take that money

Watch it burn

Enjolras was an only child. He was the heir to all of his father's inheritance, but he was throwing it all away to save The People and France. The last time Enjolras had seen his father, the latter threatened to disown him. That hurt, but the pain was numbed when he returned his thoughts to Patria.

Sometimes when Grantaire sold paintings, he would look at the money in his hand and feel slightly accomplished. Then, the world would turn on him and he would remember. The money would all disappear at the hands of the bottle.

Sink in the river

The lessons I learned

Everything Enjolras' father had taught him was thrown out the window and replaced by Enjolras' own idealistic beliefs.

Grantaire listened to Enjolras' ideas, but he knew they would never work.

The cynic and the revolutionary sung the same song.


End file.
